I haven’t posted anything in a month besides Twitter digests, and I think we all know those don’t count. I’m 35 responses behind, at least, not counting music.
But I can explain all this away: I’ve been writing short stories for the past month. Mostly just one short story, actually.
“But how can that be?” you say. “Shouldn’t you be able to write a short story in one or two sittings? How could it possibly take you a month to write 15-20 pages? That’s less than one page per day. Are you that lazy?”
“Shut up,” I say. “Or I will drown you with tigers.”
I did write some more poems, so it wasn’t all mental thrashing, but still. A month per short story is silly and unprofessional. However: the deadline for that story is tomorrow, so here’s hoping I’ll be able to sort some of these posts out, and maybe respond to what I read more than once a month.
In other news, I’m writing the next story with a pen, in a notebook, where there is no frickity-frackity internet. Because I have all the self-discipline and focus of a chicken pecking rock salt on the freeway.
Also, I will work on my analogies. Because they are terrible. Like a… Never mind.
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